


Breath of Life

by eternal_optimist



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Human Caroline Forbes, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's as romantic as it can be, Mentions of Damon's compulsion, because i can and did, dancer! Caroline, lots and lots of sight seeing, seriously this is kc falling in love in spain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15974885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternal_optimist/pseuds/eternal_optimist
Summary: The first rule to a perfect dance routine is knowing the perfect partner to dance it with.Or Caroline is a free soul escaping from her past and Klaus is as Klaus-like as ever.





	Breath of Life

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I was having urges for dancer! caroline au and the idea wouldn’t leave no matter what so i relented and tada here’s roughly 6k of that with actual IC! klaus on the side.
> 
> PS: I know I titled the fic after a florence + the machine song but this whole thing was actually inspired by I Don’t Wanna Live Forever by TSwift and ZAYN, like everytime I lacked the motivation, I’d just play it and it’s the song I imagined Caroline dancing to the first time Klaus sees her and the lyrics kinda of fit Caroline’s initial “state of mind" even if it's a bit contrary to them as a whole. 
> 
> Thanks to Kelly as always.

The only explanation for his current predicament was that he was bored.

He’d enjoyed dancers’ blood often, loved the feel of his teeth sinking into their necks right after their choreography training, sweat on their skin and their blood pumping vigorously through their bodies to make up for the exercise they pushed it through.

Though he’d never went into a dance studio specifically for prey, had never went to one, period. It had never held appeal, truth be told, to feed amidst tiny studios when he’d much rather do so in more likable places; theaters and stages and culture clubs where the numerous heartbeats of the crowds were like an aphrodisiac.

But tonight he was with Kol after waking him from his daggered sleep. His brother had coaxed him to accompany him on this hunt, citing his desire for little flexible brunettes and guilting him into it with the reminder of how he put him to sleep.

He’d only given in because he knew that sooner or later his brother would undoubtedly wander, in a few months or years when he became too restless, wanting to engage in some fun of his or to run with the latest coven of witches that caught his fancy, and despite all his claimings he did miss his brother when he was away from the rest of the family.

So he’d endured the stiff structure and went, shaking his head at his brother’s eager laugh before he closed the doors to the local studio and flashed through the hallways.

He knew from the lack of screams that followed that Kol wasn’t in the mood for chase but wanted to use his boyish charms and flirtations, which would ensure that half of the dance team would be head over heels in love with him by the end of the day, tumbling over each other to be his willing chew toy.

Kol was sadistic like that and Klaus had to admit that he felt amused by such antics, but he had enough of his fanatic groupies who lapped at his attention like lost puppies to bother with mere humans.

He enjoyed a bite or two, licking at the bloody trail and humming in satisfaction when his hunger subdued. The dancer in his grip was all dazed eyes and lax muscle, simply waiting for his tiniest order to comply with.

He sent him on his way after sneaking another bite, in no mood for burying bodies when he was surrounded by civilisation, and he did quite enjoy Seville with its architecture and little festivities to leave it just because of small talk of wild attacks.

Though it’d be quite fun to paint the city in blood, he had quite the fondness for the Alcázar to risk it being destroyed.

It was two hours before he considered leaving Kol behind and simply roaming the streets but he knew there would be endless whining later and he didn’t want to drag the daggers out so early when it’d only been a week. Knowing Elijah he’d reappear out of whatever hellhole he’d disappeared in just to give him a lecture that would rival that of an endless television tirade.

When had everything and everyone become so boring?

He heard music coming from the end of the hallway, pausing when he recognised the American pop song playing and deciding that maybe leaving one body to be found wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Such disrespect to play mindless noise in the land of flamenco dancing.

He entered through a door that led to a room with  one-way glass that gave view to the trainees with them being none the wiser.

And paused.

To the rhythm of the music a blonde danced without a care in the world, her movements erratic yet she was absorbed.

She danced without a definite style, floating through ballet moves while moving her hips to the tempo of the song; she butchered several famous routines and yet the end result was a mix of freedom he didn’t see in many, with a sensualness that was hard to pull off.

He was mesmerized.

Klaus kept on watching her as the song finished and another began, seeing her become more in tune to the music until she closed her eyes, limbs still moving.

He wondered why no one was coming to reprimand her, for he didn’t think she was a solo dancer training; perhaps a rule breaker, maybe someone up for a bit of adventure seeking the dull thrill of getting caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Nik!” Kol yelled, breaking his thought process.

He sighed, cataloging the girl’s features and her eased, messy dancing and wondered how her blood would fare coating his lips, before flashing to where his brother was waiting for him, the studio quiet except for the laboured breaths of Kol’s prey and that horrible pop music.

“Where have you been? You missed all the fun,” Kol asked, a wild grin on his face, exhilaration coating his eyes.

Not bothering to reply, he left. He had a feeling that he’d just uncovered a source of his own entertainment.

* * *

He was impressed. His brother hadn’t lasted five weeks before leaving, growing more antsy with each coming day.

Rebekah had tried to soothe him, going out together on bloodbaths outside Seville and drinking entire bars dry, but in the end he left and Rebekah was spending her time licking her wounds from the hurt and trying to get over the raging jealousy that spiked whenever one of her brothers left her behind in the dust while she was still relying on one of them at a time.

Klaus was currently employing his time finding the weak links in his inner circle; he’d heard a rumor that a witch in his servitude was finding a way to gain more power, seemingly unsatisfied with what she had right now.

So he had snuffed her out of existence, feeding her vampire blood and setting her on fire in the middle of one of her meetings with her secret agents. By forcing her to transition, she previewed an eternity of misery in death cut off from the life that was all she knew and destroying whatever chance she could have had at happiness. Her screams had rung through the night as she came to terms with what she’d become until her emotions reached a high tide that made her numb.

It was poetic, a message out to anyone foolish enough to trifle with him.

He had no doubt that the murmurs would ripple through the world at this news, horror would flood the supernatural community and those who knew of his name would quake in their boots. What he’d done to that witch had been a kindness and they all knew it. There was no escape from the millennia of torture he could bestow on someone should he wish it.

He could just picture the reverence with which they’d mention him, the fear, and how he loved it.

Seville sparkled at night, yellow lights casting shadows on the streets giving the city some natural magic witches could never wield.

It was the magic of existence and creation, far beyond the simple bending of the souls and the resurrection of the dead.

Seeing Seville like that brought back memories of New Orleans and all the nifty corners in Europe that he’d built where magic ran wild and free, vampires feeding without fear and wolves as packs always had a better chance at survival.

He flashed on the top of one of the buildings, hoping for a better view, but something else entirely caught his attention.

It couldn’t have been and yet it was, the blonde he’d seen in the studio, Caroline, who he hadn’t been able to find any information on besides her name and address and other useless things, who danced with not one single hesitation.

Who was very much a mortal human and yet continued as she had in the studio, except this time on the rooftop where she could so easily fall to her death.

A smidge in and out of time, barely remembered, always forgotten.

And yet, he knew she couldn’t care less about that detail.

Caroline stepped on the very edge. He entertained the thought of her being suicidal.

But she didn’t tumble and fall. No, Her legs stayed on the edge hovering on that nearly invisible line but never faltering, her eyes open, body not willing to surrender to chance any more than she had already forced it to. He looked at her, noticing how aware she was of every movement she made.

What a thing, to know that you could cease to exist at any given moment, and yet going ahead with the risk anyway.

She was still butchering every choreography known to man though and he genuinely did not understand whether she did it on purpose or simply lacked proper instruction.

After fifteen minutes his patience waned and he flashed towards her, slowing as he neared before he revealed his presence.

She tried to scream bloody murder, feet slipping as her body threatened to meet the ground meters below her. He caught her before it could and brought her further away from the edge, hand clamped on her mouth to silence her yells.

“I mean you no harm,” Klaus told her in perfect Spanish.

Her face looked torn between incredulousness, fear, and the tiny flicker of hope for survival that was ruthlessly squashed down finally giving away anger.

She murmured against his mouth, forming intangible words that only seemed to become more angry as he kept his hand on her, entranced by the fire he saw in her eyes.

“Dude, what the hell?” her English was only minutely startling, the American accent pronounced in her words.

He pretended not to understand her, wondering how the conversation would go.

“I saw you on that edge,” he continued in Spanish, even adding an ‘I swear I’m not a serial killer smile’. “I feared you’d jump.”

The scepticism didn’t disappear and he liked it, liked the cleverness that was becoming more visible by the second.

“Don’t worry, sir,” she replied, tongue stumbling on the words only once but her lack of accent was apparent. “I know perfectly well not to visit death sooner than I have to.”

He laughed slightly at that.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” she attempted to pull his hands off but wasn’t successful, huffing as she finished,, “unless you want to continue this conversation in English?”

He raised an eyebrow at her in question.

“You have that haughty British vibe about you,” she said, switching to English and crossing her arms over her chest, well, as much as she was able to.

He smirked playfully, “I hope that is a good thing, love.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “Not really.”

He still kept his hands on her, watching how she carefully narrowed her eyes at them as if they were ticking time bombs.

Which considering him, they probably were.

“Let me go.”

He released her, watching her as she picked up her bag and went to the stairs, not bothering to look back.

A game of chase could commence, but he didn’t bother, eyes trailing her as she walked serenely through the streets.

He’d see her again soon enough.

* * *

Here’s how it was not supposed to go.

He trailed bloodied fangs across a shivering neck, fear soaking his prey and raking her petite body. Her blood was sweet, tinged with a little sourness, her bite a gashing wound on her throat.

She’d stopped fighting a while back, her sobs mostly reduced to whimpering as she fought to stay conscious in the dark alley.

It was such a thrill for his wolf, to breathe in that tantalizing fear.

A startled gasp pulled him out of him his blood haze and he turned his head to find Caroline, mouth agape as she stared at his red mouth and yellow eyes, double sets of fangs and veins prominent on his face.

She didn’t scream or cry, she simply inhaled and exhaled sharply.

“Oh my god,” Caroline mouthed.

When would her shock fade, he wondered, when would she run and shout ‘monster’ to the city walls?

What was her breaking point, he wanted to know.

He looked at her and she looked at him, and vaguely he thought that some poet would find that romantic if not for the body hanging limply from his arms between them.

A body that now moaned faintly, but it was enough for Caroline’s attention to shift towards the sound. Sadness flashed in her eyes when she looked at the girl.

When their eyes met again, he smirked before flashing away, leaving one girl alive and the other with her last breath.

He did so love being a question people coveted answering to no avail.

* * *

He met her again sooner than he thought he would; observing the Plaza de España and its wide courtyard, the tourist population not running around en masse a respite that allowed him to enjoy the view.

Caroline settled beside him on the bench, without announcing her presence, half-knowing he was aware that she was there and half-working up the courage to speak.

“You’re a vampire.”

It was a statement and not a question.

“Yes.” Not quite the truth, for he was something else entirely, his wolf was a part of him as much as his monster.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her biting her lower lip hesitantly, allowing silence to settle. She joined him in watching everyone come and go, upper body leaning forward and hands clasped in front of her face, her fingers drumming a nervous tempo against each other.

Caroline opened her mouth, once, twice, bit her lip again before she sighed.

“What does it feel like?”

His head snapped towards her in faint surprise, the question unexpected.

He pondered her brittle bones and easily broken skin. He could shatter her and mold her and twist her in spirals. “You don’t want to know, sweetheart.”

Her muscles became tense with anger, eyes flashing brightly, and he knew he wouldn’t put it past her to snarl at him.

“You don’t tell me what I do or do not want.”

She rose and walked past him before he clasped her wrist, his thumb on her beating pulse that fluttered wildly.

He caught her gaze, bringing her skin to his lips and whispering against it the answer.

“Invincible.”

* * *

Rebekah was hiding something from him, he thought as he roamed the city, and he had a feeling that it was a new lover she feared he’d turn into a paint bucket.

Which honestly he only did when he was in the mood for an authentic blood red.

But as long as she didn’t have any ideas of running off into the so-called sunset, he had no objections to humoring her before he disposed of her lover.

It was a cycle they’d refined to the finest detail. He doubted his sister knew any other way to go about her affairs.

He ran into Caroline in a particularly crowded street, and she stopped in front of him, eyes wide. Curiosity swelled within him and people talked in Spanish with a myriad of emotions.

“Do you dance?”

Klaus startled, it seemed she’d found another hobby other than her wild dancing, spewing questions at him out of the blue at odd times.

“Not the way you do.”

In so many more ways than one.

“Can you show me?”

Tilting his head to the side, he took her in, noting the slight bounce of her heels and the fidgeting of her hands, even if she was doing a better job at hiding these movements from his notice than most people would.

Such a pretty little thing Caroline was.

He wanted to show her everything.

* * *

She asked, demanded and insisted on going to the dance studio, visibly stomping her foot on the ground when he sighed and attempted to refute her request, tried to suggest that they could always dance in his house if she desired.

“What’s the point of dancing in your home when there’s a big studio that is just begging to be used?” she said, and fluttered her lashes. He had half a mind to say no but he couldn’t ignore that this was the most animated he’d seen Caroline, she was bursting with excitement at the thought of spending time in a place she so obviously loved.

So he said yes, laughed at the way she barely kept an excited squeal in that was bursting to be let out.

Curiously, he watched as she snuck in from the back, explained how this particular room was unused and how the director was generous enough to let her use it until they had the resources to renovate. She said that everyone mostly ignored her while they were working on their routines, not bothering the American girl with her pop songs.

She rolled her eyes, mouthing the last words with a mocking voice and a patronizing tone.

When she moved to choose the music, he stopped her, tsked slightly at her confused face and told her that since she asked him to show her how he danced, then it was only fitting the music selection was his.

Caroline huffed silently but did not object and her eyebrows shot up in surprise when the classical music broke through the quiet.

He offered her his hand, and she took it though she looked at him with playfully narrowed eyes, a silent question of ‘what are you doing?’ that she didn’t get to ask, for he spun her around.

Waiting for her to face him again, he spoke lowly as he curtsied, “and now my lady, we dance.”

She fell in step faster than he expected her to, the waltz a natural rhythm for her feet to follow. Caroline made every move in perfect fashion, never faltering.

“You know you’re a marvelous dancer.” He whispered to her, voice lilting.

“I had training,” she told him proudly, achingly, sadness and anguish in her eyes.

* * *

Caroline started telling him facts about herself as they roamed the city’s streets, walking side-by-side. Her face, unlike when they were dancing, was melancholic and passive, though she smiled at the sight of the public artists and musicians lining the streets.

It was almost funny how relaxed she became around music; an addiction she never bothered to shake.

“Here are some truths about me,” she said, and carefully laid them out. “Caroline Forbes, twenty one, high school graduate, former supposed-to-be Miss Mystic Falls.”She laughed at the supposed-to-be part and the sound came out choked and bitter.

Caroline paused and bit her lip, offered to buy them some candy, didn’t bother to wait for his answer as she sprinted across the sidewalk towards the stall; running from her words.

And he watched amused, because when had someone ever bothered to buy him candy, ever, and it was all very laughable really.

She was a girl who dangled herself in the edge of a roof and danced bizarrely, a macabre ballerina of sorts. She looked at him like he was a painful reminder of unwanted memories but never with fear in her eyes.

Sometimes she smiled at him too.

* * *

Rebekah had groaned, pouted and set a room on fire, claiming boredom and feeling ignored as the cause for her antics. He’d waited patiently as she went through their wooden furniture two weeks in a row and changed the entire interior of their classic six apartment, buying new rugs and dresses and furniture to fill a palace.

His sister was such a fickle being.

When she’d hesitantly broached the idea of joining Kol, he’d smirked at her discomfort. It was so blatantly obvious she expected another daggering for her request. Oh, Rebekah had rolled her eyes and snarked at him, but in her eyes he’d seen the fear and Klaus had felt disappointed.

She could have done better.

He certainly wasn’t averse to the silence the empty house provided him, it was good to sketch in quiet as opposed to the sounds of chairs and tables being moved around, screeching across the floor.

Klaus added the last lines to his drawing, feeling pleased. Perhaps he’d redo it on canvas if he was in the mood.

He’d just have to get the particular sunshine colour of Caroline’s hair perfect.

* * *

The invitation to her apartment was unforeseen, more so because he knew Caroline was aware of the significance of such a gesture. She had held determination in her posture as she ‘asked him out for coffee’ - as she so aptly put it - glaring at him when he dared to chuckle.

He teased her on her home being the location and she had drily said that she didn’t want a massacre on national television should he dislike the coffee.

Caroline’s apartment was a small studio, her bed in view of the living room and kitchenette. The decorations were simple and cheap and it made all the questions he’d accumulated about her rush to the forefront of his mind; the sort that he couldn’t find answers to from having reports delivered from his inner circle.

It was intoxicating, all these mysteries she represented.

He wished to know how her hummingbird heart could withstand the fright of falling.

When she handed him his cup, strangely filled with tea, he grimaced at the taste of what, in his opinion, was an undrinkable beverage.

Caroline spotted his expression of distaste. “You don’t seem like the type for cappuccino, so tea for you, and I only know how to make packaged stuff, sooo…” she finished, shrugging endearingly.

He laid the glass on the counter, impatient to know every little detail.

“We should talk.”

“Talk?” she repeated.

“It’s an instance where two people converse about a variety of subjects,” he said lightly.

Caroline’s eye twitched at the mocking before she, too, set her cup down.

“So what do you want to “talk” about?” She even added air quotes.

“Oh, I want to talk about you,” he smiled slightly. Caroline raised a brow. “Your hopes, your dreams, everything you want in life.” His lips curled around the words.

She looked at him attentively before lowering her lashes.

“I told you I came from Mystic Falls, right? Well, I have always hoped to see the world. I dreamed about being a journalist before I changed my mind. Now, I just want to be whatever it is that I want to.”

“Very vague.”

Caroline hmmed in reply.

“Did I ever tell you how I left Mystic Falls?”

He knew but he wanted to hear it from her anyway, not the superficial details but the ones that were hers.

“I was seventeen, visiting my Dad, enjoying myself, so much so that I didn’t want to go back; I’d been sad for a while, having nightmares, kind of angry too, though I can’t remember why,” she frowned in frustration, eyes glazing over slightly before clearing and she shook her head.

It did not escape his attention, the signs of compulsion were stark to him and his wolf growled. The scenarios in his head were not kind and he swore the end of whoever was responsible.

“I was ignoring my mom’s calls and she ended up driving all the way there to take me back. We fought, said some not-so-nice things that I think the entire highway heard. When we finally neared the town’s sign, the place was on fire.”

She continued on telling him of her mother’s decision to park outside the town limits near the trees and keep Caroline safe while she went as was her duty as sheriff. How she’d waited restlessly for two days hidden in the woods, starving and thirsty surrounded by the suffocating stench of ash hoping for her mother’s return.

“By the second night, some help came, a police task force and the fire department, though really what were they hoping to do by that point? They found me, called my dad and I was back to where I had wanted to be.” Caroline laughed bitterly.

She said she settled in well enough, or as well as someone who’d seen her home drowning in flames could, the first two weeks spent making sure her papers were in order and what she had of her possessions were intact. And that she stopped screaming from her nightmares.

Then her father had told her of vampires.

How Mystic Falls was lost to a war between two brothers in love who threatened and murdered to set their lover free from a tomb. How there were twenty seven ancient vampires there and they delighted in the chance to reclaim their home.

How a war started and fire laid claim to everyone.

Klaus had heard the story of course, had known of the Salvatores and though he thought of the elder one a cocky infant playing a game that wasn’t his, he did miss the ripper. Hearing his end had been tragic.

But when he found out there had been a doppelganger present, Klaus had carved out the messenger’s intestines, had destroyed every surviving inch of Mystic Falls and ten other towns near it.

Lucky for the world that he’d broken his curse five centuries before, that Elijah had the foresight to resurrect Katerina after the ritual supplying him with blood for his loyal hybrids. It wouldn’t have survived his rage otherwise.

William Forbes had told Caroline these stories with the intention of channeling her anger and directing it towards hunting the supernatural, had wanted her to finish her high school education and devote her time to learn from him.

Caroline had not been amused. There had been a fanatic gleam in her father’s eyes that made her uncomfortable, insisting that she honed her mind to resist it being controlled.

“I think he wouldn’t have hesitated to throw me into the lion’s den, he would have recruited me to hunt vampires again and again and again and what kind of life is that?”

She did not tell her father of her hesitation, instead settling to learn the tricks of resisting compulsion, plotting her escape.

“Fortunately, I met a vampire who was two centuries old, he was nice and taught me stuff, told me how to make it out of the USA untracked and to start a new life. So as soon as I got my high school diploma, I bailed and I have been living here ever since.” She finished, sipping on her drink, her eyes distant.

Caroline stood, a sudden restlessness plaguing her.

“That’s quite a story.” His face was neutral, calmly taking it all own, but inside he was anything but calm. It was great to finally sate all his curiosities.

“Yeah, I have to really congratulate you on your poker face; if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve never heard this before.”

“Someone’s been snooping,” he said, amused.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But honestly you don’t exactly scream subtlety.”

“Do you goad me out of ignorance of my age or simply because you’re brave?”

He really was curious.

“Uh, to be fair, forty to me is old, sixty is ancient and two centuries is where you hit mummy state in my book so no it’s not that. It’s probably because I was born with no filter and lost my last flying fuck _that_ day,” she said with a thoughtful expression, her fingers tapping against her chin. “Also I really love to rile up people, it’s the inner head cheerleader in me.”

He laughed. “Stereotypes?”

Caroline shrugged again.

“You really are a strange creature, Caroline.”

“And proud to be,” she declared.

He chuckled.

Her gaze turned towards his forgotten cup and she narrowed her eyes, “Can’t you at least pretend to enjoy it?”

Klaus arched a brow at her question, to which Caroline rolled her eyes.

“Aren’t British people supposed to be courteous?” She complained under her breath, perfectly aware that he heard her.

“Not British actually, sweetheart.”

“Whatever.”

* * *

He developed an addicting routine of visiting Caroline in the morning to drink coffee while remarking how it tasted so much better than her tea, to which she would roll her eyes.

But the issue of her compulsion nagged at him; she had left her hometown permanently whilst still seventeen, which meant that she could have possibly been compelled at sixteen and it made him want to sink his teeth into someone’s throat.

She was his and the thought of some low cut vampire’s hands on her, possibly one of the Salvatores, riled up his wolf til it desired the comfort of tendons and organs under its claws.

He could undo it so easily and know exactly what happened, but he’d need Caroline’s permission and willingness to bend her mind to his will, and he was unsure of what her reaction to his request would be.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Caroline interrupted their quiet silence. The curtains in the living room were drawn far, sunlight lighting up the place.

He smirked, “My thoughts are worth far more than that, love.”

An unamused stare met him in return.

It delighted him, the casual way that Caroline regarded him with.

“You’ve been compelled,” he said off-handedly.

Caroline looked at him for a full minute before she swallowed a mouthful of tea.

“I know.”

Wasn’t that a surprise.

“My vampire friend, remember him? He recognized the signs, tried to undo it but that didn’t work.” She shrugged in a supposedly careless manner but he saw it, the marks of annoyance and vexation.

“Lorenzo St. John,” he murmured the name of her friend.

She shot him a look of exasperation. “You are such a show-off.”

He didn’t bother denying; why hide his power when it was meant to be wielded, and it did have the added benefit of riling her up so thoroughly.

“I could undo it.”

Scepticism was her answer.

“I am an original hybrid, love. And the only one of my kind at that.”

“So you’re like a super-powered vampire?” She asked slowly. “Seriously?”

He hmmed in return.

What will your answer be, sweet Caroline? Klaus wanted to question.

She sat silently, contemplating, before sighing.

“Okay,” Caroline agreed. “It’s not like I’ll lose anything.”

It had taken nearly the whole day, Caroline had called the director of the dance studio to inform her not to expect her, fidgeting for two hours.

He’d let her be, allowed her nervousness to wear off before he could attempt to cajole her mind into unveiling what had been hidden from it. If he pressed too hard it could break, between his thrall and Caroline’s willpower.

Once she’d settled down, it was easy enough, those who honed their minds to resist being controlled could make themselves susceptible should they wish.

Caroline had breathed deeply before nodding at him.

He’d watched as her eyes glazed over, memories flooding before some semblance of awareness snapped at her and she rushed to the sink where she vomited, sobs racking her body.

“Please get out,” she had cried violently, and he had hesitated before another sob tore its way out of her.

It had been so unlike him to retreat when asked, to pull away instead of heading on vehemently but Caroline’s expression was like seeing his own so many eons ago. The boy he’d been, whose pride had stopped his siblings from helping after a particularly nasty beating so that he could hide his tears and emotional pain.

And now here he was sitting in Parque de María Luiza, two days after, barely keeping from punching Caroline’s doors down.

He felt her presence behind him and stifled a laugh.

What was the saying again? Oh, speak of the devil.

Of course, Caroline looked nothing like a devil in her black leggings and faded blush-light sweater, her hair pulled in a bun and feet in sneakers. Human, that was how she appeared to be, fragile and breakable with tear-rimmed eyes.

She approached cautiously.

“Hi,” she said promptly before settling next to him on the bench.

“Hello, love.”

Before he could say anything else, she hastily told him, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He could relate to that wish, much as he detested that fact, the memory of whips on skin and swords smearing blood and _you useless boy._

And the way Caroline shifted to keep a certain distance, making sure his body didn’t touch hers, how her eyes darted with new-found realization and awareness confirmed his suspicions. He wasn’t sure which of the Salvatores had touched her, but it was mercy they burned in that town rather than by his hands.

“Klaus,” she broke the silence, staring ahead at the flora, the green vivid and vibrant against the pale palette she made. “Tell me about the world.”

He appreciated the reprieve from an unpleasant memory lane, didn’t like that in such a short span Caroline had unwittingly dug up so many unwanted memories. Part of his vampire wanted to kill her just to prove a point, but his wolf silenced such a part with a vengeance, roaring at the thought.

And his lovely human girl had no idea of the sway she was beginning to hold over him.

Or maybe she did.

Regardless he began to weave tales for her, spoke of Al-Andalus as he’d seen it during the eleventh century and its vast culture, the ripe age of Islamic civilization, eventually hinting at Thailand and its lush islands and floating market, watching as Caroline relaxed her stance, some of the weariness abandoning her.

* * *

They were on the roof of the Plaza de España, at his insistence, truthfully he was getting tired of all the tourists basking in the summer sun, and the glimmer of excitement and instinctual fear in Caroline’s eyes was enough incentive to convince her.

She had, of course, refused to set foot in any place or even consider going anywhere without her customary cup of tea and pastries. Imagining her daily routine with blood instead set his fangs on edge.

When he had gotten them on top, she had whispered this is crazy but seemed so utterly charmed by the view.

Their peace was certainly helped by the fact that he compelled the security to overlook their presence if they were spotted; humans naturally explained anything that was amiss to fit their rationale, though two people on a roof was hardly something staggering in the grand scheme of things.

Caroline was enjoying the sunset, hair in various shades of gold and orange, expression peaceful.

She was beautiful.

“You know,” she murmured quietly. “It’s kind of funny, I left Mystic Falls for so many reasons and I didn’t even know half of them at the time. My mother and I had the worst existing relationship in that town and she died in a fire trying to save me and the town, my dad had a major dick phase in which he wanted to turn his only child, who was a minor, barely out of school, into some monster-hunting-killer regardless of the fact that I was cracking which led me to take up dancing to just forget. The last five years have sucked majorly but it’s hilarious from a certain point of view.”

Caroline paused thoughtfully.

“Also my last recent two “relationships”, this one included, have been with vampires who you could, arguably, say are the bane of my existence. My life is weird.”

He moved to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear, tangled his finger in her strands and soothed her cheek with his thumb.

“You have to adjust your perceptions of life now that you know about all that which lurks in the dark, Caroline. Only you decide how it affects you and how you react and what you think of it.”

“Don’t you think of humans as weak though?”

He didn’t refute her observation. “I do.”

It was nearly on the tip of his tongue to offer her eternity. But Caroline, sweet stubborn human Caroline, beat him to it.

“Klaus what does being a vampire feel like?” She asked him again.

“Free.”

* * *

The rhythmic movements of pencil against paper were the only sounds in the room along with the steady inhales and exhales of the compelled girl in the corner, calm and compliant ready to give her blood. The room was shaded in black, where the curtains were drawn to prevent letting the sun in.

On the nightstand was a perfectly designed lapis lazuli ring, its craftsmanship regal and elegant, every little detail of it chosen to Caroline’s preference.

The blue would look wonderful on her skin, a contrast against her porcelain complexion, a compliment to her eyes.

Her hair was spread around her head on the bed, face relaxed and body taut, a perfect image of serenity were it not for the unnatural angle of her neck, the paleness of her cheek and the lack of heartbeat

But that was to be rectified in mere minutes.

Soon, he would be able to teach everything to this fierce, sharp-tongued baby vampire, to show her cities like Shanghai, New Delhi and Alexandria.

He’d teach her every dance and every language. Show her the world and make her strong. A force to be reckoned with, where her intelligence could shape the world around like he knew it was capable of.

A sharp breath sounded and Caroline’s eyes snapped open, confused momentarily before black veins creeped up her cheeks, her gaze  _hungry_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is seriously one of my favourite things that I've written by far. And I hope you guys you felt the same. But really tell me what you thought. Favourite moment? Favourite lines? Did you like the premises of the au? What do you think of the bits and pieces of the characters sprinkled in between?


End file.
